Terms of Engagement
by Liz Ezyreader
Summary: it's hard to return to being friends once you've been so much more.
1. Chapter 1

_Terms of Engagement  
_

Disclaimer: I do not own Person of Interest or its characters.

**A/N: I recently joined FF and this is my very first story. It kept pestering me and wouldn't let me focus on my taxes until I put it to paper. Please review. Thanks!**

* * *

_It all comes down to a matter of trust_.

Joss sat at the bar, not listening to any of the strands of conversation floating around her. She glanced at the mirror behind the bartender, catching sight of a couple kissing at a table behind her. She sighed, not wanting to watch anything associated with love or lovemaking.

She swirled the amber liquid in her glass swirl around and around as if somehow held the answer to the questions plaguing her. She must be a masochist by selecting the bar in which she'd helped John save a cheating boyfriend from being shot by his girlfriend.

They'd talked about trust that still believed it was the foundation of any healthy relationship. Hadn't they proved it true?

The bartender slapped a frothy glass of beer down on the wooden bar. "This is for you."

She shook her head. "Didn't order it."

He jerked his head to the right. "The gentleman at the end of the bar did. Enjoy."

She shifted her gaze to meet the generous man. Early to mid 40s with olive skin and black hair. Perhaps at some other time in her life, she'd have been flattered. Tonight, she was simply bothered. "Thank you," she mouthed.

He rose from the stool.

Oh great. She didn't need company. She didn't anything. _Who are you kidding?_

As he slid onto the empty stool to her right, the same one John had occupied that night, he smiled, displaying even, white teeth. "You here alone?"

Guess he didn't see the rather large baggage she carried. "Sometimes I wonder. You?"

"Hoping to meet a beautiful woman. Looks like I found one."

She sipped her drink. "Is that so?"

"I think so."

She finished off her drink before sliding the beer he'd purchased over to him. "Thanks for the compliment, but why don't you save it for a woman who's available?"

"And you aren't?" He stuck his hand out. "Name's Jordan. Jordan Stewart.

Joss regarded him for a second. Despite the fact she wasn't interested, she wasn't raised to be rude. She shook his hand. "Jocelyn Carter."

He grinned. "So, Ms. Carter, I don't see anyone with you."

The man really was nice-looking. He reminded her of a Wall Street type in his navy suit and red and yellow striped power tie. He wore the collar of his wool coat turned up just like...

She slid off the stool. "Despite how things look, Mr. Stewart, your efforts would pay off better with someone else. Have a nice night."

Before he could utter another word, she navigated the throngs of people. Out on the street, she paused as she checked her watch. It was almost eleven. Time to head home.

* * *

John closed the door to Zoe's apartment building. She always had her driver ready and waiting for him, but as always, he waved to the guy and opted to walk. He moved at a brisk pace, feeling compelled to put as much distance between him and her home as possible.

What the hell was he doing? After the night with Zoe in the Carleton Hotel's penthouse, he realized he'd made a mistake. Sure the sex was a release, a much needed one, he rationalized to himself. But immediately afterwards, he felt the same as he did when he used his own hand, restless and unfulfilled. Tonight, she'd been willing as always, but he'd managed to put her off. Being with Zoe was far apart from how he'd felt with Jess. Then again, he'd probably never feel that way again.

No matter what he did, he couldn't rid himself of the relentless energy swirling inside him. Usually after he left Zoe's, he'd exercise, shoot a few hoops or hop on the Ducati and ride for miles. But no matter what he did, he never felt relaxed.

He walked aimlessly, not surprised at all when he discovered he'd walked to Joss' street. He stood at the corner, wondering whether or not to head closer to her home when he spotted her walking from the opposite direction. He immediately ducked from view. What was she doing out this late alone?

She wore a dark gray pantsuit with a red blouse and black high heels. She always looked feminine to him - even when she sought to remove her womanly assets from the equation by dressing in what he thought of as her "detective gear." Lately, though, it seemed she was displaying more of her femininity.

At the base of the stairs of her building, she paused, looking around as if to make sure she wasn't being followed.

He clenched his hands at his side. He wanted to approach her, touch her, have her smile at him and invite him in. He needed to hear her voice. He stepped forward then froze. What could he say that she'd want to hear? "Sorry, I was wrong?"

A second later, she climbed the stairs, disappearing behind the door and from his view.

He sighed. It was for the best. He knew that. She knew that. He had to keep reminding himself although he'd already reminded her. She had so much to live for, people who loved her. He couldn't take her life from her. He wouldn't do to her what was done to him.

"'Night, Joss," he whispered as he continued his trek to his own home.

* * *

After checking on Taylor, Joss returned to her bedroom. Ever since her son started high school last year, he'd lived on his cell phone. She had to make him stop talking or texting and get some sleep. She chuckled as she slid off her heels. Just like her mom did with her at that age. Guess things never really change from generation to generation.

She undressed, avoiding looking in the mirror. She'd lost nearly ten pounds and knew it was because of the level of stress she carried. She just needed time is all. Time was the great healer, right? She draped the pantsuit and blouse over a chair, making a mental note to stop by the dry cleaners tomorrow.

After a quick shower, she pulled on an Army t-shirt and a pair of panties. She wandered through the darkened living room and into the kitchen. She poured a glass of cranberry juice. She wanted something stronger, but drinking wasn't the answer to her problems. Hadn't John proved that?

_John_. She gritted her teeth. Damn. Why was she thinking about him? There was no future with him. He'd been more than plain on that front.

She downed the juice, turned off the lights and then returned to her bedroom. Climbing into bed, she lay on her back. Every night she prayed for sleep to come quickly and every night, it took its slow, sweet time to arrive. She toyed with the idea of taking something to help send her to snooze land, but she was too afraid of it becoming habit-forming.

She blew her breath out in a rush, knowing tonight would end the same as it had every day for the last month-lying awake until exhaustion overtook her.

* * *

John stood in his kitchen, beer in hand as he surveyed the contents of his refrigerator. Tomorrow, he'd stop by a bodega and grab a gallon of milk and more beer. He'd lost the desire to cook. In the past, cooking helped him think, solve problems. But now, he just stared at the stove as if he didn't know what it was for.

He closed fried door as he allowed the refreshing liquid to slide down his throat. Once empty, he tossed the bottle in the trash.

He slowly climbed the spiral staircase to the secluded bedroom. He stood in the doorway, surveying the king-size bed. Images of her lying on the bed with her back arched, legs around his waist. He swore he'd been blessed with a glimpse of heaven. But maybe a glimpse was all he was allowed. He turned off the light then climbed into bed.

He tossed and turned, fighting the one thing that normally made him sleep like a baby. An hour later, he stopped fighting the inevitable. Within moments he was asleep, and just like every night for the last month, his mind replayed the memory of the last time they were together.

_John stayed sitting across from her in the booth as Finch and Fusco rose to leave. After Finch saved his life, the foursome had needed to meet. To regroup, to deal with John's near-demise. Now, he didn't want to go home alone and judging by the way, Carter's hand reached out and tangled with his - neither did she._

"_Can I get you two anything else?" The waitress asked, awfully perky for the time of night. _

_He shook his head, keeping his gaze glued on Carter. "I'm good. You?" _

"_Yes," she whispered. _

_After the waitress turned to handle other customers, he leaned forward. "If you're not too tired, I'd like to show you something."_

_Interest flared in her eyes. She shrugged. "Okay."_

_He suddenly felt unsure of himself. But this was Carter. She'd risked so much for him. He knew what he wanted her actions to mean, but did they? He straightened then rose to his feet. He fished in his pocket, dropped several bills on the table, and then held his hand out._

_Placing her hand in his, she slid from the booth. _

_Outside, he considered taking a taxi as that would get them to their destination faster. But after the night, he'd had, he wanted to savor her presence. _

"_You mind if we walk?"_

"_I guess. You're the only one who knows where we're going."_

_He chuckled. "You must really trust me."_

_She glanced at him then looked away. "Seems like."_

_He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to hold her in his arms and familiarize himself with her curves. He'd held her only briefly the night they spent in Texas, but it'd been long enough to imprint her on his skin. _

_He slid an arm around her waist. When she didn't protest, he tugged her closer so his left side was pressed against her right. _

_They walked in silence, not too fast, not too slow. But at exactly the right rate of speed._

_Several blocks later, he opened the door to his building. _

"_What is this place?" She finally broke their companionable silence. _

"_I live here."_

_She stopped at that, staring at him. Her expressive face displayed the fact she wanted to ask him 'why now' or at least why he was presuming she wanted to see where he lived._

"_You're full of surprises, John."_

"_Good ones, I hope."_

_Her gaze raked the length of his body. "We'll see."_

_His heart raced. He'd been fooling himself. That she hadn't known where he was taking her. That she didn't have the same idea as he. _

_Somehow he managed to usher them into the elevator. When the doors closed, he wanted to kiss her, but he forced himself to wait. He'd waited this long. What was a few more minutes? _

_He opened the door to his penthouse apartment._

"_Oh, this is nice,' she breathed. _

"_Let me take your coat."_

_She slid it off, handing it to him. He breathed in the soft cloud of jasmine. He hung it next to his own. _

"_Can I have a tour?"_

_He bit back the words, 'you can have anything you want.' He didn't want to frighten her. Hell, he frightened himself with the emotions she inspired within him._

_He showed her the view from his window near the king size bed. She joked about the world watching him sleep. He vowed to himself to watch her sleep soon. He showed her the kitchen where she dared him to cook her something. He vowed he would. He showed her the bathroom with its expansive shower and Jacuzzi tub. She said nothing, but he vowed to have her share them with him. He showed her his more private bedroom upstairs. She marveled at its neatness. He vowed to have her clothes strewn on the floor with his own. He showed her his closet of toys. She trailed her nails down several of his guns, asking to clean them with him. Her request took his breath away and he vowed she would, after she trailed her nails down his body. _

_He took her hand and led her to the sofa where they sat next to each other. _

"_Thank you." He wondered how many times he'd said those words to her. He seemed to be forever in her debt._

"_You'd have done the same." _

_He didn't wonder how she knew what he meant. It was weird knowing someone knew you as well or even better than you knew yourself. _

_He shifted to face her and slid an arm behind her head. "You asked me if it was true."_

_She nodded._

"_Yes." He shrugged. "Some of the details where different, but you know I was talking about Jess, right?"_

_Again, she nodded. _

_Despite the late hour, the pressure he'd put on her yet again, she looked perfect to him. Her face, scrubbed free of make-up, looked younger. He reached out, loosening her hair from its confine. Fascinated with the raven-colored strands, he drew his hands through her hair. _

_She moaned, eyes closing at his touch. "I'm sorry," she whispered._

_He stilled his movement. "For what?"_

"_For…being emotional tonight."_

_His hands moved to cradle her face. "Open your eyes."_

_She followed his instruction. _

"_You have nothing to apologize for."_

"_But, John I - " _

_He brushed a thumb over her lips, silencing her. "Don't ever stop...being you. I'd have done the same thing. I told you that."_

_Tears welled in her eyes, but soldier that she was, she held them back. _

_He swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew what she meant. From the moment he saw her, he knew she was different. Knew she'd mean something to him. He'd been fooling himself for a long time. Trying to pretend she was just a friend. Just a part of the team. The heart of the team. But she was much more. So much more. _

_He'd nearly lost his life tonight, but he'd long since lost his heart. He thought it had died with Jess. But somehow, Joss had found it and resuscitated it. Now she held it in her hands and yet she had no clue._

"_I didn't bring you here for..." He squeezed his eyes shut then reopened them, determined to make her understand. "I need you," he whispered. "I almost lost..."_

_She lost her battle against the watery orbs back and they silently marched down her cheeks. _

_He swiped them away with his thumbs, unwilling to allow them to caress her skin when he wasn't. _

"_I was so afraid," she whispered._

"_I know. I'm sorry to have done that to you."_

_She shook her head. "It wasn't your fault."_

"_Joss - "_

_She turned her head, kissing the palms of each of his hands. _

_He touched his forehead to hers. "I can't let you go tonight." His eyes bored into hers. "Can you stay?"_

"_Always."_

_Moving back, he shifted her so she straddled his lap. _

_He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face against her warm breasts as the knowledge he'd almost lost her flowed over him. He thought it was her tears that wet his face, thought it was her shudders that racked his body, but he realized they were his own. _

_She held him as he emptied his feelings with the one person he knew would not ridicule him or treat him any differently. Murmuring words of comfort, she rubbed his back in circles, bringing him a level of peace he dared not ever wish for. _

_Finally, his sobs subsided. He leaned back, meeting her tear-stained eyes. "Joss - "_

"_I'm sure."_

_Seeing the truth in her eyes, he leaned forward again, this time allowing his lips to touch hers. A spark of awareness ignited him. Her lips were just like he'd fantasized, soft and plush. He groaned, touching his tongue to the seam of her mouth. She invited him in. He wanted to plunder her moist depths, but he also wanted to draw the experience out so he savored every inch of her mouth, familiarizing himself with her taste. _

_He settled back on the sofa, bringing her with him as he feasted on her. His cock tightened and she moved against him. He'd have begged to be reincarnated for this. For the chance to love her like this. _

_How long they kissed, he had no idea, but he'd never been so aroused just from kissing since he'd been in high school. _

_He unbuttoned her blouse, exposing a sheer crimson bra, exposing the top of her breasts, the ginger brown of her skin flushed with arousal. _

_She shivered against him. "Please," she pleaded. _

"_I know what you need," he whispered. He pulled the blouse off her, tossing it on the floor. Without removing the bra, he sucked a nipple into his mouth. _

_She bucked against him, grinding her warm center against him. Pleased with her reaction, he repeated his movement again. He allowed her only a few seconds respite before turning his attention to the other breast. _

_She held her hands against the back of his head, writhing against him. "John."_

_Needing more, he removed the bra, tossing it behind the sofa. _

_When his lips covered her now-bare nipples, she moaned. _

_He pushed her breasts together so he could lave attention on them at the same time. _

"_Don't stop. Don't stop," she chanted. _

_He swiped his tongue across and over the tasty chocolate morsels. First the left, then the right. Then, the right, then the left. _

_He sucked the right one into this mouth, scraping his teeth gently across the surface. She ground against him as she came. _

_He kissed her breasts as she undulated with each wave of pleasure. _

_She slumped against him. "I've never come just from…"_

_His male ego preened at her words. "I want you open for me."_

_She nodded. _

_He rose, holding her against him. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Walking a few steps, he lowered her on the bed. _

_He unbuttoned his shirt. _

_Rising to her knees, she stopped him on the third button. "Let me."_

_She finished removing the shirt, then tossed it on the floor. She removed his t-shirt next. She caressed him with her eyes, as if she'd never seen a man's chest before. Her hands were next, running over his heated skin like a refreshing balm. _

_He shivered when her lips traced his Adam's apple. He gritted his teeth when her lips introduced themselves to his nipples. He never knew his nipples were sensitive. But each time, she sucked them in her hot mouth, his cock jumped in his pants, eager to be let loose. _

_She trailed down to the waistband of his pants and he fought against the urge to throw her down and devour her. _

_She unbuckled his belt then unzipped his pants. _

_Jolted into action, he reached down and undid hers. _

_With mutual consent, they divested themselves of their pants and shoes. With torsos bare, their only clothing were his boxers and her panties, each bearing a wet spot from their unleashed passion. _

_He pushed her back against the bed, following her down until he lay on his stomach between her spread legs. Her scent wafted to his nostrils and his cock throbbed to know what their commingled aroma would smell like. _

_He ran a finger down the wet crotch. Her legs trembled. He did it again, fascinated by watching her clit move in respond to his touch. Deep in her spell, he lowered his face until it was flush with her sex. He drew his tongue up and down the fabric, enjoying the moans that came from deep within her. He sucked the swollen flesh into his mouth. _

_She came off the bed. "John," she gasped. _

_He wrapped his arms around her thighs, controlling her movements. He pushed further against her. His eyes closed, lost in her scent, He felt, rather than saw, her jerk against the cover, pushing herself against his mouth. _

"_I..I.."_

_He'd fight to never lose her. Never lose this. To be allowed this privilege forever. _

_Opening his eyes and driven by the need to know every inch of her, he released her. Hands shaking, he drew the wet panties down her legs. Where they went he had no idea because his tongue was inside of her almost before they landed. _

_His fingers opened the folds of her pussy, baring her to his gaze. She was so pretty. Pink, plump and oh, so wonderfully wet. He ran his tongue up and down her labia, pausing to stroke inside of her with his tongue as he'd soon do with his cock. _

"_I'm coming. John. John. John!"_

_He sucked on her clit, riding the waves of her orgasm as she undulated against him. Her pussy gushed with warm honey that he happily lapped up. _

_When she finally stopped moving, he rose to rid himself of his boxers. He climbed into bed again, allowing her to pull him closer. _

_She kissed him, moaning as she tasted herself against his skin, on his tongue, in his mouth. Her sharing of the nectar of his actions made him groan and he pulled her tighter against him as if he could somehow meld_

_Her small hands reached down, caressing him. _

_He jerked in her hold. He hoped she would. He prayed she would. _

_She slid up on the bed then with a naughty grin, took his hand and pulled him toward her. When she stopped him, he was straddling her, his cock bobbing in front of her mouth. _

_She didn't glance at him, didn't stare at him as if seeking his approval that she was doing it right. Not Joss. She closed her eyes and with one hand on his balls, drew him into her mouth with a moan. This was a woman who knew how to please a man and was confident in her ability. _

_Her hot lips worked his length. Her tongue swirled up, down and over. She ran her tongue on the ridge underneath, causing his hips to jerk forward each time. She fondled his balls gently in her hand then took him in as far as she could. _

_He slapped his hands against the wall. He vibrated with the need to come, but it felt so good he wanted to stave off his orgasm as long as possible. _

_She moaned with the tip of his cock at the back of her throat. He gritted his teeth, his breath coming in pants as he rode the wave of pleasure._

"_I'm close, Joss." If she heard him, he didn't know. Frankly, he didn't care. _

_When she sucked hard on the head of his cock, he curled his hands into fists against the wall. When she did it again, he groaned. When she did it a third time and ran a finger down the crease of his ass…what the hell? _

"_Joss!" He jerked against her as she accepted his come, accepted him. _

_He closed his eyes, nearly falling on top of her. _

_She eased him down, to lie beside her. _

_He opened his eyes. "Damn, woman."_

_She grinned like a Cheshire cat and wiped the sweat from his brow with the palm of her hand. _

_He sucked in a deep breath. He thought he'd need a minute to get himself together, to ready himself for the next step, but his cock hadn't gone down at all. He rose to his knees. Parting her legs, he held his cock against her clit, rubbing it against her in a belated introduction. _

_At the last second, he remembered. "Open the nightstand drawer and hand me a condom."_

_She opened the drawer, easing out the box. "These haven't been open."_

"_Haven't had the need." The unspoken words, haven't been with you, hung between them. _

_She did the honors, rolling the rubber down his length. _

_He swept his hands beneath her ass, holding her at an angle as he entered her. He slid into her, only an inch, then stilled. They both gasped at the action, but he recovered before she held himself taut, waiting for her body to begin its adjustment to him. _

_She nodded and he eased in, taking his time. _

_When he was finally sheathed inside her, a sense of calm filtered through him. This woman brought him peace and he instinctively knew he'd never find it anywhere else._

"_Make love to me," she whispered._

_With any other woman, he'd have balked at the words. But with Joss, that was all he could do. Though at some point in the future, she might ask him to fuck her, he might ask her to fuck him, but beneath those requests for hard, fast and quick, he knew the foundation of it would forever be the type of loving a man could only deliver to a woman he loved with every corner of his heart. _

_She pulled him down to lie on her, and he fell a bit more in love with her. She wanted all of him. The light, the heavy, the good, the bad. _

"_Remember this," he whispered against her soft lips. _

"_Always." _

_She rolled her hips and they settled into the slow strokes that threatened to unravel them both. He stretched out over her, finding her hands and joining their fingers. It was so much better than even he could imagine, than he ever thought. A tear rolled down his cheek. She brushed it away with her thumb, then pulled her digit between her plump lips and sucked it. _

_They kissed, their tongues thrusting against each other with the same lazy movements. As if they had all the time in the world. And when she stiffened and her pussy gripped him and milked his own orgasm from him, they did. _


	2. Chapter 2

_Joss_. John's eyes fluttered open as the sky lightened. Each time he experienced the memory of that night, his level of regret rose. His heart told him he erred, but his mind screamed that it was to keep her safe, alive to see her son graduate and eventually marry and present her with grandchildren.

He climbed from the bed. The silence he used to find comforting haunted him with phantom sounds of her laughter, moans and screams as she'd allowed him to own her body. In the bathroom, he turned on the shower. Standing under the invigorating spray, the warm liquid rushed over his skin.

He soaped his body, gritting his teeth as his hands ran over the erection which stubbornly rejected his instruction to subside. He closed his eyes, giving in to the desire for temporary relief. He refused to worry about how often he was engaging in self-love, but he couldn't help it. Being with Zoe hadn't curbed the activity. If anything, it had increased. It was like his body knew it wasn't finding a home with the right person and was determined to issue an APB for the missing woman it yearned for.

As his orgasm washed over him, he opened his eyes, wishing he were with her as his semen decorated the tiles. He rinsed the wall then washed himself again.

Something had to give. He couldn't go on like this.

But what could he do? He'd pushed her away and she'd walked straight into Cal's arms. Now all he had left were memories that left him hard and unfulfilled.

* * *

_John_. Jocelyn tossed and turned beneath her covers. Her legs clenched and unclenched as her right hand rubbed between her legs. She gulped air into her lungs as her heart raced. Her orgasm ripped through her and she clutched a pillow against her mouth to quiet the scream. Her heart finally slowed its galloping pace.

With the last of her energy, she kicked the sheet and comforter off her heated and damp body. She pushed the pillow aside. Nearly every morning, she woke up, aroused and incapable of focusing on anything until she allowed herself an orgasm. And it wasn't brought on by thoughts of anyone else - just John. She'd tried fantasizing about actors she liked - Denzel, Will and Russell - and nothing. This was why she hadn't invited Cal into her bed. He'd asked. Hell, more like hounded her about taking their relationship to the next level, but how could she when in one unguarded moment another man's name might slip from her lips?

She had no experience with dating someone while desiring someone else. She'd never had to worry about anything like that before. With her husband, it had only been him on her mind. In the past when she dated a guy, she was fully into him. This - whatever it was - with John and the strained relationship with Cal was wearing on her. Hell, she barely knew herself anymore. Maybe she needed to schedule an appointment with a therapist.

Something had to give. She couldn't go on like this.

But what could she do? He'd walked away and climbed straight into Zoe's bed. Now all she had left were memories that left her wet and unfulfilled.

The insistent ringing of her cell interrupted her musings. She retrieved it from her nightstand. Cal's smiling photo filled the screen.

"Hi, Cal."

"Hope I didn't call too early, but I knew you had the day off. I was hoping to catch you before you made plans."

"Why?"

"I thought we could take in a movie and perhaps have an early or late dinner. Whatever you prefer."

What she preferred was for him to be honest. She felt like a piece of lint tossed headlong into a hot dryer intent of sucking every hint of moisture from her. She'd never understand why he planted evidence on Szymanski, but he at least deserved a chance to explain his misguided actions. Or was she the misguided one for even giving him a chance to explain? Shit, she hated feeling confused and unsure and she'd felt that way for over a month now. Second-guessing every fucking thing she did as if she didn't even trust her damn self.

"What time, Cal?"

"Three. I can come there and pick you up."

"No," she said sharply. Her gut told her he'd try to talk her into allowing him to meet Taylor. That wasn't going to happen. Not anytime soon. "I'll meet you there."

After they agreed on the name of the theater, she ended the call.

She climbed from the bed. No sense in wasting a perfectly good day off lying in bed. She had a ton of laundry to do, the kitchen floor could use a good scrubbing and when was the last time she cleaned the oven?

* * *

John carried a box of cupcakes into the abandoned library. He owed Bear an apology. As expected, the Belgian Malinois scampered to meet him as soon as the soles of his shoes hit the top of the stairs.

He removed one of the gourmet dog treats and held it in the palm of his hand. Bear snuffed it into his mouth with one bite. He rubbed the dog's head. Bear sat on his hind legs, impatiently waiting for another. John gave him two more, knowing Finch wouldn't let his action go without speaking on it.

"You're spoiling him, Mr. Reese." Finch glared as he sat in front of the computer.

"He should be happy, Finch."

"As should you."

John let the comment slide. Finch had hinted at his sullen attitude after his stay in the penthouse suite and subsequent nights with Zoe. He crossed the room. The sky was cloudless and sunny, but still a chill existed. It may be spring, but apparently only on a calendar.

Finch retrieved a picture from the printer.

"Who's the new number?"

He watched the older man tape the photo on the board.

His gut clenched. He called on all his years of training in the CIA to prevent displaying any outward emotion. Finch's lips moved, but John didn't hear a sound.

"Mr. Reese?"

Apparently, he'd missed something important. "Victim or perp, Finch?"

Finch regained his seat at the computer. His fingers flew across the keys. "As usual in his profession, he has a high number of people who wish to do him harm, Mr. Reese."

John turned to face Finch. "And the number of people _he_ might want to harm?"

"The number is much smaller, Mr. Reese."

"What do we know about him?"

Finch appraised him for a second before answering. "As I said before, Detective Calvin Beecher is single, born and raised in Brooklyn. Parents are both retired and still living in Brooklyn. Currently dating Detective Carter."

John clenched his jaw, but said nothing.

"Are we going to clue the Detective in about our latest number?"

"It wouldn't be wise."

"She needs to know he's in danger, John."

"And what do you think she'd do?" He stared at Finch. "She'd try her best to protect him. I'm not putting her in danger. Especially when I don't know what we're looking at."

Finch sighed. "I'll check out his building and sweep it for bugs and cameras. If he's involved with HR, there's no telling who's watching him to make sure he stays in line."

"And if there aren't any cameras?"

"Then, I'll leave a few around. The sooner we determine the threat, the quicker we can neutralize it."

"I'll talk to Fusco. Get him to keep his ears open."

John left with a heavy heart. He knew Finch was right. Joss had a right to know, but he had a right to try to keep her safe.

* * *

Joss looked at her cell as it rang for the fifth time in the last five minutes. She shook her head as she ignored Cal's call. The nerve of him, thinking he could act as if nothing was wrong between them after he admitted he'd given the tip about Szymanski. At the last minute, she'd called him yesterday and canceled on their date. Sit beside him in a darkened theater? She couldn't do it. Just like he couldn't tell her the identity of his CI.

She didn't have it in her to sit and pretend something wasn't wrong between them. Couldn't he see that? He wasn't the least concerned about the FBI backing off her becoming a field agent based on IAB's investigation of him. In fact, he acted like it was no big deal.

Fusco eyed her over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. "Either answer the damn thing or put it on vibrate."

She smiled. "Not like you're actually interested in concentrating on your paperwork."

He nodded. "True, but what the hell are you gonna do? You can't avoid the guy forever."

"I can try." She smiled, but having Cal in her life was proving quite stressful. Fusco had warned her about drawing attention to herself because of her vocalizing her belief in Szymanski's innocence and the origin of the planted drug bust money. If she wasn't positive on what side of the fence Cal stood, did that make her more of a target of HR as well? She had more important things to think about than whether she hurt Cal's feelings.

Fusco's phone rang. She watched him rise from his desk and walk several feet away. Probably Rhonda, judging by how low he spoke. At least his relationship was on the right track. She eyed the stack of folders on her desk and put all thoughts of her own convoluted personal life from her mind.

Lionel sat at the bar when John entered. He waited for the taller man to straddle the stool beside him.

"What was so important I couldn't let Carter know you called?"

"Need you to tell me everything you know about Detective Beecher?"

Lionel looked away from the handful of nuts. "Wait...Beecher's number's up? Damn."

"Carter can't know."

"How do you think we'll keep it from her? She's going to be pissed when she finds out."

"Then don't let her".

"Are we talking about the same person?" Lionel's brows rose in disbelief. "You're asking for trouble and I don't want any part of it."

John lifted a napkin from the dispenser. "If she finds out, she'll want to protect him."

"And that's a bad thing?"

He folded the napkin into a precise triangle. "It is if someone's trying to kill him. I won't let her get hurt."

The shorter man appraised him for a few seconds. "You need to stop tiptoeing around the situation."

"And what situation would that be?"

"You got the hots for her. I see it. Four eyes sees it. Hell, Carter probably sees it too. You want her? Go for it. Make it happen. Then she'll leave Beecher alone."

John kept his expression neutral as he inwardly acknowledged the truth of Lionel's statement. "Anything new with HR?"

Lionel shook his head. "Nothing concrete. Just my gut. He's had several meetings with the Mayor's chief of staff and each time Simmons has been there. Not involved, just watching in the background."

"Keep an ear on Cal's activities." John rose from the stool.

"Must be hard, man."

John paused and stuffed the napkin into his jacket pocket. "What?"

"Observing a guy who may be on the take sniffing around the woman you want. And now you have to save his life." Lionel shook his head. "Wouldn't want to be you."

"Well, it's a good thing you aren't."

* * *

"Joss."

Joss was so engrossed in completing a report Fusco had passed on to her. He wasn't slick. She knew his strategy of beginning a report and then rushing out as if he was called to a scene. Probably off seeing Rhonda...or talking her into a quickie. She shuddered, not wanting to visualize her partner in such a way.

"Joss?"

Startled from her thoughts, she looked up, meeting the determined eyes of Cal. She glanced around at the occupied desks. "Detective Beecher, what can I do for you?"

"So we're back to Detective Beecher now?"

She sighed. She didn't want to do this here, but she also didn't want to go anywhere alone with him. "Look, we've been on rocky ground for a while. Maybe after this thing with Szymanski, it's best to just quit while we're still able to be friendly."

"What if I don't want that?"

"Excuse me?"

"Joss, I trust my CI. I was only passing on information I received."

"He was a good cop. Perhaps if you hadn't called in the tip, he'd still be alive."

"I'm sorry, Joss. What would you have done differently?"

She stared at him. If she hadn't known Szymanski, hadn't worked side by side with him, maybe she'd have done the same thing. But to do that to another cop? What made Beecher take the word of his CI without at least questioning his fellow officers first to decide if there was any validity to the CI's claim?

"Let me buy you dinner. We can talk. Please? My mother always said it's best to talk about problems over a good meal."

At least other people would be around them. "I guess so."

He flashed even white teeth. "Great. I'll make reservations at Craft."

"I'll meet you there."

"You don't trust me to get you to the restaurant in one piece?"

She swallowed, thinking back to the way he'd sped while driving them to Owen Island. Her stomach flipped. Being in a car with him again didn't feel right and she wasn't going to question her gut. "I want to check on Taylor first plus I have a few errands to run. Just let me know the time."

* * *

John answered Lionel's call on the first ring. "What'd you find out?"

"Carter's meeting Beecher tonight at Craft. Might be good for you to show up there."

He remembered the place from his "date" with Maxine. "Thanks, Lionel." He disconnected the call.

Finch looked up from the computer. "What's your plan, Mr. Reese?"

"I can be invisible, Finch."

"While you watch another man wine and dine Detective Carter? Perhaps you can."

John kept his face expressionless. Carter would immediately know something was up if she spotted Fusco. It was best to do this himself. What he really needed to do was hurry and find the threat to Beecher so he could insure Carter remained safe.

"I'll see you in the morning."

"Mr. Reese?"

John paused at the top of the stairs, but didn't turn around.

"Don't jump to conclusions."

"I know how to do my job, Finch." He continued, not wanting to hear anything else. He wouldn't assume Beecher was the perpetrator. But his interest was in keeping Carter safe at all costs. The narc better pray whatever he was into didn't bring harm to her.

* * *

After being called to a crime scene, Joss had hurriedly completed her report then rushed home to change. Cal had reservations at eight which thankfully gave her time for a quick shower.

Forty-five minutes later, she parked her car. Taking a deep breath, she checked her reflection in the mirror. She'd opted against wearing a dress, selecting a pair of dark jeans she'd purchased just last month instead. She straightened the collar of her tweed blazer. With the stark white shirt beneath, she looked reasonably dressy, especially with the black platforms she wore.

She climbed from the car. She glanced at her watch as she hurried to the door. Five minutes ahead of schedule.

Cal rose from the table as she approached. She slid into the chair opposite him. She didn't miss the light of approval in his eyes. When they'd first started dating, she'd have teased him about it, but not tonight.

"You look great."

She forced a smile to her lips. "Thanks. You too." She certainly had no problems returning the compliment. Cal shopped more than she did. Tonight, he wore a navy suit with a navy shirt and no tie. He possessed an easy style, reminding her of...She gave herself a mental shake. No, no. She would not compare the two men.

"Hope you don't mind, but I ordered oysters and a bottle of champagne."

She nodded. Champagne? Like they had something to celebrate.

A waiter stopped by their booth with the bottle. "I will bring the oysters momentarily."

Joss placed a hand on the waiter's arm. "Could you bring me a Dead Guy Ale?"

"Certainly. I'll be right back."

Silence descended upon them when the waiter walked away. She would not be the first to speak. Cal was the one who wanted to meet.

He chuckled. "Look, Joss. Somehow we've gotten off track." He covered her hands with his own warm palms. "I want us to return to the way we were."

She glanced around the crowded area. She saw the flash of a tall man walking past the bar. Something about his stance seemed familiar. A group of businessmen chose that moment to approach the bar, blocking her view. When they finally moved, the man was gone.

"Joss?"

She sighed, returning her attention to the man and the problem in front of her. "Cal, I don't know what to say."

He squeezed her hands. "Tell me we'll try to get back on track. Look, I know you changed your mind about my meeting Taylor, but can't we go away for a weekend, just the two of us. I think we need to concentrate on our relationship away from the pressures of work."

Pressure? Was that what planting money on Szymanski was to him? Her stomach fluttered as the waiter returned with her beer and the oysters. She watched as Cal dug in with gusto. She couldn't think about eating.

He sipped the champagne. "So what do you think about our taking a trip?"

"Cal, look. I -"

"I'm trying, Joss. I know we've got a few issues, but I want us to work through them."

"Issues? Cal, I asked who your CI was and you refused to tell me," she hissed. Needing to calm herself down, she placed her napkin on the table. "I need to visit the restroom. I'll be right back." She rose from the table and made a beeline for the restroom.

* * *

From his vantage point at the back of the restaurant, John observed Joss weave through the maze of tables. When he realized she was headed straight towards him, he rose, melting into the throng of bodies so she didn't see him. She'd almost caught him earlier, but that was because he'd been so busy watching her in jeans. He'd seen her in them before when she was chasing him, but he didn't recall that they'd fit quite like a glove back then. He'd allowed himself only a moment to imagine that she was on a date with him. Something he really longed to make happen, but probably never would.

Watching her progress, he realized he wasn't the only man, or woman for that matter, whose gaze stayed glued on her. He smiled. Joss was clueless to her beauty. That was one of the things that attracted him to her. She didn't flaunt her assets and she had plenty. Then again, she didn't need to because she naturally commanded attention.

She disappeared into the restroom and for one crazy second he contemplated following her. But how would he explain his presence? Joss would know something was up and he couldn't let her know Beecher was the number.

He kept his gaze glued on the door waiting for her to reappear.

* * *

Joss stared at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't look like a woman on a date with her man. She looked like someone at a freaking inquisition.

A stall door opened and a young brunette in her twenties sashayed to the sink to wash her hands.

"Ooh, I love those jeans."

Joss smiled. "Thanks."

"It's crowded in here tonight. I have to hurry and get back out there. There's a hottie I have my eye on."

"Just one?" She joked with the younger woman.

"He's dreamy. Tall, silent type with the most amazing sapphire eyes. I think he's waiting on someone, but whoever it is hasn't shown up yet. Her loss."

The woman left, leaving Joss alone.

Sapphire eyes. She smiled, immediately thinking of John. Was it possible that's who she meant? No way. That would mean he was following her.

"You need to get a grip," she chided her reflection before leaving.

* * *

John tapped his earpiece. "Finch."

"Mr. Reese, how is the surveillance going?"

John tapped his earpiece. "Fine. Carter has no idea I'm here. No one's paying any attention to them."

"Except for you."

John hung up.

* * *

"There you are." Cal greeted as Joss returned to her seat. "Thought I'd have to send a search party into the restroom."

"No need."

She forced herself to eat an oyster.

"So about us going away…"

"Cal, we have problems with trust."

"Only because you don't trust me."

"You haven't given me reason to."

He sighed. "What's your problem? I've bent over backwards for you. More than I've ever done when dating a woman. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your place?"

She shook her head at his audacity. "And what place is that? Of being with someone who won't be honest with me? Someone who acts like it's no big deal being under investigation by IAB? Am I missing something?"

Cal sat back in his seat. "What's really going on, Joss? Is all this really coming from the fact I won't divulge the identity of my CI? I don't think so. I think it's something else. Are you sure you want to be in a relationship with me?"

He'd hit the question on the head. Were she and Cal really more than friends? Had they ever been? She enjoyed his company. They had things in common, but if she were really honest with herself, he didn't make her yearn to see him naked, to feel his arms around her as she slept. She wiped her mouth with a napkin.

"Cal, I need time."

"_More_ time? For what?" He frowned. "To search out some other reason to keep me at arms' length? If you're interested in someone else, just tell me Carter. No need to jerk me around." He opened his wallet and tossed a hundred on the table. "I don't have to beg a woman to be with me, Carter. I thought we were on the same page. I'm sorry about Szymanski. If I'd known that money was tainted, I'd never have called in the tip. What else can I do? I can't bring him back."

She remained silent, waiting for a feeling of remorse, but instead relief poured over her.

He rose from the chair. "Nothing to say? Figures. You're only vocal when you're calling the shots."

Joss watched him leave without a backward glance. She pushed the oysters to the middle of the table and finished her beer.

* * *

John tapped his earpiece. "Finch?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese."

"Beecher left Carter at the table. Looks like he's leaving for good."

"And what are you doing?"

"Following him."

He remained at a distance as Beecher walked the several blocks to his condo. From a building across the street from Beecher's, John watched as the narc moved around his home. He prayed Joss wouldn't show up and after the detective's condo went dark, John stayed around for another hour to be positive.

"Finch?"

"Yes, Mr. Reese?"

"Did you find anything in Beecher's apartment?"

"Negative."

"He's turned in for the night. I'm headed to Carter's to make sure she's in for the night."

At least that was what John told himself when he arrived outside her building. He entered the brick structure, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached her door.

He contemplated knocking, but decided against it. He needed to focus on Beecher. He turned around.

The door opened.

"John?"

He froze.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: {{{Dodging pies in the face and lashes from wet noodles}}}

I know I deserve all kinds of flogging for not posting updates. I humbly apologize for allowing life to interfere with our love of all things J&J. Forgive me.

Please know, I truly appreciate the reviews and a hearty "thank you!" to all those I have not responded to.

~Liz~

* * *

**From the end of Chapter 2**:

_John watched from the building opposite Beecher's as the narc moved around his home. He prayed Joss wouldn't show up and after the detective's condo went dark, John stayed around for another hour to be positive. _

"_Finch?"_

"_Yes, Mr. Reese?"_

"_Did you find anything in Beecher's apartment?"_

"_Negative."_

"_He's turned in for the night. I'm headed to Carter's to make sure she's in for the night."_

_At least that's what he told himself when he arrived outside her building. He entered the brick structure, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached her door. _

_He contemplated knocking, but decided against it. He needed to focus on Beecher. He turned around._

_The door opened. _

"_John?"_

_He froze. _

* * *

For several seconds, John didn't move. He couldn't tell her the real reason he was there.

"John, what are you doing here?" She sounded closer this time and he knew she had stepped out into the hallway.

He turned around, unprepared for the sight of her dressed in a pair of white shorts with a faded gray Army T-shirt. Her nipples pushed against the fabric, a clear indication she wasn't wearing a bra. He swallowed, trying to lubricate his drier-than-the-Sahara throat.

"I was in the neighborhood."

"Oh."

Did a look of disappointment crossed her face or did he simply imagine it?

"Want to come in for a minute?"

_Did he_? His feet were already moving towards her.

She closed the door behind him. "Can I get you something?"

_Just yourself_. "Whatever you have is fine."

She breathed deeply, eyes closing as she completed the action. She chuckled as she opened her eyes. "You know you smell just like this restaurant I was…" She gasped. "Omigod! It _was_ you."

He neither confirmed nor denied her accusation. "What?"

"There was a young girl who mentioned seeing a man with sapphire eyes. I immediately thought of you."

He should have focused on the fact she'd noticed him, but he didn't. "You think my eyes are the color of sapphires?"

She flushed, but didn't answer him. "Why were you at Craft tonight?"

He knew coming inside was a bad idea. Why hadn't he kept moving? He knew _why_ though. He would never pass up an opportunity to be with her. "Are you interested in my personal life, Carter? If so, you can just ask me out on a date," he teased.

She didn't take the bait. "Were you spying on me?"

"No," he answered truthfully.

She walked into the kitchen. "Sorry for being nosey. You could've been meeting someone."

He followed. "I wasn't."

She was silent as she opened the fridge then extracted a carton of grape juice. He waited as she poured herself a glass. Finch was right. She couldn't be kept in the dark about the new number. By not telling her, he'd be putting her in the middle of danger.

"I was following our new number."

"Oh. So it's someone who lives near me?"

He sighed. "It's Detective Beecher."

Joss lowered the glass to the counter. "When were you planning to tell me?"

"I wasn't."

Her chest rose and fell with each quick breath. Her beautiful plump lips thinned. The air shifted between them, the warmth he usually felt disappearing as a distinct chill emanated from her. "You can't play God, John."

"I'm not."

Her eyes narrowed and her approaching anger gathered speed like a hurricane.

"Calm down."

"Calm? Calm?" She marched over to where he stood, her toes painted a surprising electric blue, touching the toes of his shoes. "What is your problem?"

Lord, she was gorgeous when she was mad. And passionate. He'd experienced the depths of her passion once and wondered when, if ever, he'd have the opportunity to do so again.

"I don't have a problem." He struggled to keep a smile off his face as she flailed her arms around. He wondered briefly if she'd take flight.

"You can't expect me to not try and protect him, John."

"Why not?"

She shook her head. "I don't want him harmed."

He studied her in silence. "And you're saying that I do?"

She sighed. "No, I know you feel strongly about the people you and Finch work hard to save."

He rubbed the soft skin of her arms, down, up then down again to circle her wrists. "I won't treat him any different, Carter."

Joss nodded. "But I can help - "

He removed his hands from her body. "No."

"John!" She shuddered against the instant feeling of cold without his touch. "He's not going to let you close enough to him."

"No."

"Why? Are you jealous?"

He turned away, putting space between them as he walked over to the window, where he kept his back to her as he looked outside. Finally, he spoke. "I can't, Joss."

"Can't what?" She was spoiling for a fight now. He wasn't winning this one. No way would she allow him to keep her off helping on this case just because it was Cal. Didn't he understand, she could help keep him safe? "Can't what, John? It makes perfect sense that I'm the one to get close to him."

She walked towards him, stopping only when she stood beside him. "What can't you do?"

"I can't lose you." He uttered the words so low that if she weren't near him, she wouldn't have heard them.

Stunned into silence, she could only stare out the window at the scattering of lights along the street. She didn't know what to say. Their avoidance of each other was the only thing that made dealing with this - whatever it was - tolerable. But his words...God, did he have no idea what just hearing the tone of vulnerability in his deep tone did to her?

"It's not fair."

He turned, facing her. "I'm not apologizing for wanting to keep you safe."

She gasped at the desperation in his eyes. Her eyes drank in his features, the expressive gaze that missed nothing, yet said everything and lips that curved into smiles often when they were together. For both of their sakes, one of them had to be strong. He was wavering. She couldn't do the same.

She nodded. "I understand."

He swore as he enveloped her in his arms. "Joss…I can't…not without you."

She had no time to rebuff him, if she even wanted to. She melted as soon as he pulled her body flush to his. She blinked rapidly. She'd missed him, missed his intoxicating scent, the feel of his body against hers, his lips on her skin. "John." Her arms found their way around his neck, fingers sinking into his short salt-and-pepper hair.

She was only going to hug him, really she was. She thought she could just leave it at that. But the moment his breath warmed her neck and his lips found that special spot just below her ear, she couldn't recall what they were even talking about. Her body undulated against his, their hips brushing and gluing together like magnets.

"Kiss me."

His questing lips traveled from her neck to her lips. "We shouldn't be doing this."

She slid her tongue along the length of his bottom lip. "I know," she breathed. Hell, maybe he'd be the strong one.

He placed quick kisses on her mouth. "It's not going to end well."

"True." She lightly nipped his top lip.

He groaned as his hands moved down her back to cup her bottom. He kneaded her flesh, making her recall the detailed attention he enjoyed giving to her rear. In one smooth move, he lifted her. She wrapped her legs around his waist. At the familiar bulge rubbing against her center, she gasped.

He slid his tongue into her mouth as their lips met in a kiss of hot, wet, urgent desire. Yes, she needed this. She felt him moving, but she was floating on air and had no idea where he was going until she felt herself falling, the sofa cushion meeting her back and John following to lie on her.

She groaned.

He stopped kissing, holding his torso off her long enough to ask, "Am I too heavy?"

She pulled him back down. "I need to feel you."

They were like a couple of teenagers and their kissing and heavy petting lasted long enough for her to know for a certainty that her panties had soaked her shorts and that John's erection was hard enough to pound a nail.

"Bedroom?" He kissed along her neck, sucking on her skin so her toes curled.

"Will you let me help?"

As if she'd thrown ice water on him, John sat up, his shift in mood so quick it left her disoriented.

"John?"

"Don't ever use sex to get favors from me."

"That wasn't what I was doing."

His gaze pinned her to the sofa. "Wasn't it?"

Was it? She hadn't meant it to be, but did some part of her think she could change his mind? "I wasn't thinking that way."

He rose from the sofa. "I'll be in touch."

"Wait!"

He paused at the door.

"What about Cal?"

"I'm not allowing you to help."

"Not this again." She hurried to him, touching a hand to his arm. "Be reasonable. He isn't going to allow you or Fusco near him. He'll spot you tailing him eventually and you won't be close enough to help if he's in trouble."

"He asked you to go away with him."

Damn, he'd heard that? She'd forgotten he listened to her conversations. Although, after their agreeing to put some distance between them, she'd figured he'd stopped. "He did."

"You turned him down."

She nibbled her bottom lip. "I could change my mind. That would get him away from the danger while you figure out who's trying to kill him and I could keep him safe in case anyone follows us."

John's jaw clenched. "I don't like it."

Knowing, he was wavering, she caressed his jaw, her touch soothing the tenseness flowing through him. "I'm not fond of the idea myself, but it's the best we have with short notice. Unless...you have a better idea?"

She knew he was considering her suggestion when he didn't answer right away. "Where would you be?"

She knew what he was really asking. "I'd be safe. Finch could install cameras in the entry and near the door so we can see if anyone enters the room when we aren't there."

He glanced away from her. "Just one room?"

She studied the sudden tension in his body. She had to admit a part of her was thrilled he was jealous. "How else do you expect me to keep an eye on him?"

He whipped around her then stalked into the kitchen. "Fuck! This is why I'm against the idea."

She followed him. "Do you trust me?"

His searching gaze met hers. "You know I do."

"I'm not in love with Cal, John. Those feelings won't be in play."

He paced the linoleum. "But, _he's_ in love with you."

He had a point. Cal wouldn't agree to adjoining rooms at all, but perhaps a suite. She'd worry about coming up with an excuse to keep him out of her bed later. "I'll book a suite. If I tell him it was a spur of the moment decision to try and give our relationship one last try, he may not question why I went with one."

Finally, he stopped. "You know I don't like it. But you're right." He swiped a hand down his face. "Thanks for offering to help."

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I know you said...that we…"

John glanced at her, surprised to find that usually succinct detective searching for words. He swallowed the chuckle that threatened to push from his throat.

"I know this isn't the right time to ask, but…do you regret us?"

He invaded her space. He clutched her hands in his, raising them to his lips to kiss the knuckles of each hand. "No. I just didn't realize how hard it would be to stay away."

"Me either."

"But, in the long run—"

She sighed. "It's best for both of us."

He nodded. "We don't do anything easy, do we?"

* * *

After Cal jumped at her invitation to spend a relaxing four days at Greenbrook Woods Resort, Joss knew she had to act like the girlfriend in love with her man. She'd opted to meet him at the resort, claiming that she was also visiting some girlfriends on her way back to the city. Of course, he'd believed her, which made her feel bad for the subterfuge, but if he stayed alive it was worth it.

Finch pulled strings to get them a suite on such short notice. John had already planted cameras inside along with some on the stairwell doors and in the elevators. He didn't tell her where he was staying and she didn't ask. She knew he'd be near. That was weird enough.

Neither spoke on the fact that she'd be in a romantic situation with another man and he would hear and see everything. She'd been tempted to bring it up, but she'd caught him staring at her last night as she'd sat across from them going over their final strategy. She'd seen the desire burning in his eyes, but she also knew he was good at his job. No harm was coming to Cal if he could help it.

She sighed. It wasn't Cal's fault he'd asked her out. Nor was it his that she'd accepted. She was attracted to John, but explained her body's reaction away because the man was gorgeous. It was only later that she'd admitted to herself her body's response only happened around John and not other similarly handsome men.

She heard the click of the door. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself. _Showtime_.

* * *

John watched as the suite's door opened and Beecher entered, carrying his bag. With a broad smile, the detective dropped the bag, crossed the room in hurried steps to Joss, grabbed her around the waist then twirled her in a circle.

With a laugh, she put her hands on his shoulders. He stopped, slid her down his body then fused his lips to hers.

John felt as if a hot poker twisted in his belly. This pain was worse than even being shot by Evans. He had to deal with it though. Joss would never forgive him if he didn't do everything in his power to save Beecher.

He looked back at the screen. They had parted and she was showing him the suite. John gritted his teeth as he noted the narc kept his hands on Joss' ass. They weren't glued there. Why the fuck didn't she push his hands away?

He picked up the phone to call her then came to his senses. They had to save Beecher.

_Get in the game, man_. John pushed his personal feelings away. This wasn't about him or even Joss for that matter. He slammed the phone down and continued to watch and listen.

* * *

"What do you want to do?" Cal asked, his brows rising and lowering with a lecherous grin.

Joss smiled, knowing she had to curtail his intention to get her into bed. "I figured we'd start out with massages and an early night after dinner. Tomorrow, we can venture into town. We're just in time for the Summer's End Festival. We can check it out while we're here."

"And the nights?"

"What about them?"

Cal slid his arms around her waist, allowing her to feel his growing erection pressing against her hip. "As I was saying, what about the nights?"

She put what she hoped was a regretful expression on her face. "This is the wrong time of the month."

He groaned.

"I know."

He hugged her. "At least we're together. We can work on our relationship."

Behind his back, she crossed her fingers. "That's what matters."

After couple massages and an early dinner of pasta that left them both feeling a bit too full, they returned to the suite. Cal promptly set up camp on the sofa while she grabbed a book and curled onto a nearby chaise.

"Come here." Cal said as the movie he was watching ended.

Joss abandoned the book she was only pretending to read. With what she hoped was an eager smile, she did as he instructed.

Cal must've figured the romantic setting wasn't to be ignored. His left hand rested against her left hip then slid around to knead her butt.

She swallowed, knowing John was watching.

He kissed her temple.

"I heard about the recent commendation from the mayor to the group of narcs."

"Joss?"

"What?"

He brushed his lips against hers. "I don't want to talk about work. I don't want to talk at all."

"Well, that's all we can do, remember?"

He kneaded her butt again. "Yes, but we can do other things with our hands and our mouths."

Joss wished she'd disappear. Not wanting to encourage him, she remained silent.

"Honey?"

"I'm listening."

He chuckled. "I don't want to be presumptuous, but it'd be nice to feel those lips around my —"

"Let me up for a moment."

Cal frowned. "Where are you going, babe?"

"I'll get us something to drink."

"Hurry back."

In the kitchen, Joss paced back and forth. She peeped at Cal. He channel-surfed until he finally stopped on a baseball game. Taking advantage of his lack of attention, she slid a small bottle from a nearby cabinet. She poured a glass then dropped a tablet in it, allowing it to dissolve. She added extra teaspoons of sugar, hoping to mask any difference in taste.

"Here you go." Joss handed him the glass of tea. "Did you want some dessert? I can have something brought up, if you do."

"No, this is fine."

Joss kept him talking by asking him questions she already knew the answer to, but she had to do something to keep him off the subject of sex.

Twenty minutes passed and Cal's words grew slower, his lids lowered more often. Finally, his snore reached her ears. She breathed a sigh of relief. She wondered what John thought and was surprised he hadn't manufactured a reason to get her alone.

* * *

John watched with an approving smile as Joss climbed into bed alone. Relief coursed through him. He'd been worried. Although they had opted to cool things between them, he still wanted her, but what if she didn't feel the same? What if he could never make things right between them?

He showered and had just pulled on boxer briefs when his cell chimed, indicating a text message.

_Goodnight. Sleep tight_.

_You too_, he typed back. He considered asking her to come over, but changed his mind. They couldn't risk getting caught and besides, it wasn't fair to either of them to keep dancing around the issue. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to thrust away images of her lips wrapped around his cock as she glided him in and out of her hot, wet mouth.

His eyes sprang open when he registered a soft tap on his door. He got out of bed, checked the screens. Beecher still slept. Joss' bed was empty.

Another tap, louder this time.

He glanced at the hallway monitor. Joss. He unlocked the door then opened it.

"You drugged him."

"Melatonin. He'll be fine." She walked into the darkened room. "I just…"

"I understand. You should get back over there."

She moved closer. "We need to talk, John."

Though there wasn't a lot of light, enough moonlight filtered through the curtains to allow him to see she wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt beneath the complimentary robe.

He swallowed and clenched his hands into fists at his side. He couldn't allow himself to touch her. If he did, he knew he'd have her in the bed with her legs in the air or better yet, over his shoulders. Yet nothing would have changed. He couldn't sleep with her again and walk away. He wasn't that strong.

"We've been over this, Joss." His voice was firm, at least to his ears.

She laid a hand on his arm. She slid it down to his fist. He allowed her to pry his fingers open. She stood close with her breasts brushing against his bare chest.

"I can't sleep without dreaming of you. I wake to thoughts of you making me…hot for you," she whispered. She released her hand then slid her arms around his neck, bringing their bodies flush against each other. "How do I stop the wanting?" Her eyes filled with tears. "I don't think I want to stop. How do I deal with this?"

He'd wanted to keep his distance, needed to do so for her sake just as she needed to do the same for him. But the way she looked up at him with her beautiful eyes radiating trust. _In him_! Oh God, how could he resist her? He wanted her in his life, but it was so unfair.

"Life's unfair."

He hadn't realized he'd spoken aloud.

She released him. "I'm sorry. It's just my being here, wishing I was here with you." She swiped at a tear that rolled down her cheek. "I've never wanted anyone this much. Not even my husband. Not like this."

He pulled her tightly to him, their bodies touching. His lips came down on hers. He didn't know what else she was going to say. He poured all his feelings into her mouth, hoping she could decipher the language. He kneaded her bottom, rubbing her against his hard need. When he felt himself approaching the point where he had to have her, he pulled away. "Joss —"

"Shh." She cradled his face in her hands. On tiptoes, she kissed his chin, nose and both his cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered.

He cleared his throat. "For what?"

"For telling me I'm not the only one struggling with these feelings."

He smiled. "Trust me, you're not."

"So that talk?"

He nodded. "We need one."

She breathed a sigh. She glanced at the monitor at a sleeping Cal. "Guess I better get back."

She disengaged from his embrace. He walked her to the door, keeping their fingers linked until the last possible second.

"Thank you, Joss. I needed that."

"I know." She winked then disappeared out the door.


End file.
